


House Arrest

by 84Reesdy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Hermione Granger, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hearts & Cauldrons SSHG Server's Gift Exchange 2020, Oral Sex, Post-Hogwarts, Severus Snape - Freeform, Severus Snape Lives, Smut, hermione granger - Freeform, injured Snape, intercourse, snape - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/84Reesdy/pseuds/84Reesdy
Summary: Snape has escaped the Second Wizarding War with barely his life and little else. He is doomed to a dismal fate until and unlikely witch stands up for him.Beta'd by the Lovely LunaP999
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 12
Kudos: 126
Collections: Hearts and Cauldrons Gift Exchange





	House Arrest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corina (CorinaLannister)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/gifts).



This was not Severus’s first time in shackles hunched over in a cramped cage. He’d been surrounded by curious and judgemental stares of the Wizengamot before. He was no stranger to the sting of existential dread that accompanied the idea of spending a lifetime imprisoned like an animal. Over the last nearly two decades, he’d also become accustomed to the shielding support of Albus Dumbledore. But the flick of his own wand had taken that life, and by extension, may very well have ruined his own. 

“You have no one to defend your character? No witness to your years of so-called ‘selfless acts?’” 

Snape had no savior. He had no recourse. He was enemy number one as far as many of the judges here were concerned and would likely be made a public spectacle as far as punishment went. He would be the advertisement of justice. That is until an unlikely spector stood from the crowd. 

  
  


Hermione knew the truth and she trusted Harry’s recounted memory far more than she did any over-zealous auror. They’d swarmed Snape’s weak and injured form, each desperate to be known for the high profile arrest. He’d been healed through enough experimental magic to see him fit for trial, but little else. The whirlwind of events since the demise of Voldemort had everyone reacting with impulse rather than contemplative logic. 

as she stood, the room tittered with hushed murmurs before falling deathly silent as Hermione gathered the courage and wit to speak. Dumbledore had trusted Snape implicitly and though Dumbledore was not without reproach, his judgement of character was impenetrably sound. 

“He does.” She said with a strength that surprised her - it did well to mask her reticence, “I am prepared to defend his character and his willful acts of heroism that you are so quick to denounce.” She pointed a sharp stare towards the wizard who’s hand slowly lowered the gavel and his face paled. 

The murmurs flared again but she did not let them steal her concentration. Snape did not look at her, but she saw his eyes close behind his curtain of greasy hair, moreso unkempt due to his imprisonment. 

_ He could use a bath...or two  _ she thought mindlessly before stifling her curiosity in favor of a steeled will. 

“Miss Granger,” The wizard addressed her but stumbled over anything further. As one third of the Golden Trio she’d become accustomed to people not knowing how to speak to them, “You would barter your reputation for this criminal?” 

She’d become accustomed to stares in the last months, but the weight of every dedicated gaze in this hall was crushing. But she did not falter and squared her shoulders. 

“Whatever crimes he commited were for the greater good of every decent witch or wizard in this world. Without him, Voldermort would still quest for power and perhaps possess it. He was not the only one whose hands were dirtied by this war, yet they walk free, pardoned of any wrongdoing. I also know I am not the only one who feels this way.”

Her impassioned speech fell on a crowd thirsting for such an effigy. Snape gripped his knobby fingers around the bars of the cramped cage. He tried to remain resolute to his unfortunate fate, but her words wound into his consciousness and he was devastated by the hope they evoked in him. 

Hermione deftly articulated Dumbledore’s name and legacy into her plea. To synonymize Snape with Dumbledore would only serve to lessen his plight and his reputation.

Only when the Wizengamot adjourned for private adjudication did Hermione unlock her knees and sit back on the bench, surrounded again by curious whispers. It was then that she noticed a gaze she hadn’t held before looked her way now. 

He had treated her with so much cruelty at times, had he the strength to show expression, his surprise would have been more than evident. He would have to steal every crow from the sky to eat enough of them if she somehow managed to change his fate.

The temporary ruling widened more than a few eyes as the option was presented to Hermione. And the murmurs swelled into shocked conversations regardless of the gavel that demanded their silence. 

“Severus Snape will be released under magical house arrest with a ministry imposed confinement to one dwelling for no less than 180 days or until which time the Wizengamot can reconvene to formally review statements in favor of the prisoners character. Miss Granger, since you are the only one who can vouch for this prisoner, it would be your duty and responsibility to oversee said containment. These terms are non-negotiable and binding. Should you agree to them, you would also be placed under the protection of the Ministry. What say you to these terms?”

Hermione had not anticipated this outcome. She was no nursemaid or healer or warden (Though she had no doubt she could read up on any of those subjects). To gain some semblance of freedom for Snape, she would have to relinquish some of her own. But Hermione knew the truth and she knew that he deserved a far better fate than the one that lay out before him now. She’d sacrificed far more for the greater good.

“I agree to these terms, your honor,” She spoke clearly and boldly. Again the din of the room ignored the banging gavel as her eyes met the sunken black stare of the prisoner in bars. 

  
  
  
  
  


===============================

Hermione’s nerves were beyond frazzled when the snap of apparated individuals nearly made her jump out of her skin. 12 Grimmauld Place was as close to a safe haven as she’d ever had, though it's dark and dreary aesthetic seemed to fit the aspect of imprisonment. Though Harry still was the technical owner of the property, he had not stepped foot in it for months - opting for a long and secluded holiday. Hermione, however, was given permission to oversee the property as she saw fit. She invited the aurors into the townhome. They surrounded the pale lanky form, flanking him in every direction. If it hadn’t been for the striking blackness of his cloak, she might not have noticed him at all. 

While still under the eye of the aurors, Hermione showed him to his private bedroom, making herself clear that she would respect his privacy and would not interfere with any official ministry business. But she did make it clear that she had expectations of the ministry as well. 

Hermione did not expect him to be a cordial roommate. Afterall, his personality was likely the same Severus Snape that made children shudder in fear. She kept her expectations of him low and reasonable. In fact she rarely saw him at all other than a passing glimpse in the kitchen or her small but well stocked reading room. She’d memorized all the book titles so when one or two went missing, she easily knew which ones. Once they returned, she made it a point to re-read them. 

Perhaps following his intellectual footprints might lead her to some greater understanding of him. In time she noticed that the corners of certain pages were peculiarly folded as if he were marking them for interest. And since he’d already read them, perhaps it was for her interest. 

Snape slept most of the time. Upon his arrival, he looked horrid. His cheeks were still sunken in and he walked with much difficulty. While he probably needed a fair amount of healing and care - he needed to rest most of all. He needed rest in a safe confinement where he could let the worries of his past flitter away. 

His presence was so quiet and subdued that Hermione often forgot that he was even there. On a few occasions she’d even come face to face with him in her pajamas and while they were nothing sordid, the informality of her state of undress embarrassed her. She still saw him as her professor, even if he seemed less intimidating these days. Though well covered in flannel pants and a vest top, she felt nearly naked in the drafty kitchen.

There had been no conversation after a couple of weeks, only general pleasantries in passing. After seeing him skulk away from the small library, Hermione snuck in to see the returned texts. Only one had been missing.  The Causality of Touch.

It was a text on healing - focusing on the human body’s response to touch over spells, potions, and medicines. She was surprised by his interest. She had to wonder if any other person had touched Severus Snape in years. He was so reclusive and withdrawn that one would think he would never desire physical closeness with another. But with the number of pages with creased corners, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if he desired otherwise. 

=====================================

Another week passed and Hermione was reminded more and more of his presence. His appetite must have resurfaced as she often saw him coming or going from the kitchen. His color was much better, returning to the typical paleness one could expect from a dungeon dweller. His cheeks were not as sunken, and while his eyes remained black, there was a suggestion of life within them. 

“If you happen to go out today, I would appreciate a copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ and echinacea tea.” He asked from the doorway to the parlor one morning. Hermione was startled at the address. He stood much straighter though he seemed to be favoring one leg over the other. Her curiosity begged to know more, but she stifled it before nodding. 

“I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem,” She could see that though he was being polite, asking for things rather than getting them himself was even more of a punishment, “I’ll leave them in the library,” 

She did as promised, seeing that he had returned another couple of books and taken more. She would have to visit a bookstore or two if he kept up such a pace. It was then she saw these books were not of her collection, nor one that the Black family owned:

Tantric Pressure Points and their Medicinal Implementation   
  
Therapeutic Massage: Training and Application

Hermione was too intrigued to just leave them, immediately taking the former one and flipping to the pages that’s corners were creased - something that she’d come to believe were meant by him for her to read. 

The detailed descriptions of touch made her stomach tingle in ways that she’d never previously thought were likely. But every description drew an intricate portrait in her mind of her hands moving along his body. Feeling his goosebumped, pale skin under the trace of her finger tips,manipulating his resistant muscles until they yielded to her direction. She began to imagine his body, picturing what it must look like with less and less clothes. 

She wasn’t aware of her quick shallow breaths until she stopped breathing altogether when Snape’s figure in the doorway stole her away from her depictive daydream. Her eyes went wide as he recognized the book. She’d have bolted if he hadn’t been blocking the only exit to the room, so she stayed rooted to the spot, unsure of what to say. 

“Interesting reading material for you, Hermione,” He was amused, but barely smirked. Her name on his tongue sounded unusual to her ear. He so often referred to her by her surname. Addressing her so familiarly seemed uncharacteristically intimate.

“I’m...I’m finding it very interesting, actually,” She answered, looking at the tin of tea that sat atop the  _ Daily Prophet.  _ His eyes followed her to the items, “I’ve always found the healing arts fascinating in both the muggle and wizarding worlds,” 

Hermione watched as he walked slowly, it reduced the appearance of the limp he’d developed. She could barely keep her stare from the way his long fingers reached for and held the tin and the paper. 

“I have found them quite intriguing as well,” In his own mind he harbored his own visions of the skin on skin contact that he deeply desired, “Thank you, Hermione,” He left the room as unceremoniously as he’d entered and Hermione finally took a deep enough breath to ease the ache in her lungs. 

She felt sexually stirred, but was nearly mystified at how since their interaction seemed to be quite platonic. She started to close the book, but instead marked her place with her finger and retired to her bedroom to finish reading. 

=========================================================

Hermione woke in the night with such urgency that she was sure she’d been shaken awake. But she was alone in her bedroom and not a sound stirred in the blackness. She lit the lamp next to her bed still alarmed by the abruptness of her waking and though she tried to calm herself into reason, she couldn’t.

She slipped on her robe, walking carefully as to not squeak any of the numerous loose boards. She walked about the house, looking for anything that might have made a sound, but nothing was out of place. It wasn’t until she had checked the last room, the kitchen, that she found anything out of the ordinary.

“Professor??” She saw his form lying on the ground, shuddering as one hand gripped his thigh. She immediately knelt at his side though she had no idea what to do.

“I’m alright,” His voice was strained, but even, “I just need a moment. It flares up … from time to time.”

“You aren't alright, you’re lying in pain on the kitchen floor,” She was not in the mood to deal with any sort of frail male egos at this hour, “At least let me help you to your room,” She laid her hand over his that still clutched his thigh. She was suddenly reminded of every word she’d read about the effects of touch.

Severus lay still for a moment before nodding, “Alright then,” He breathed as the pain began to subside. Hermione tied her hair back and out of the way as she helped him slowly to his feet. Once he regained some balance, she helped him walk with her arm around his back and his over her shoulders. 

It wasn’t just the sense of touch that bombarded her, but many of her senses. The scent of his clothes, his masculinity. The sound of his breath, purposefully steady. The look of determination etched into his features. She found herself wishing she could employ her sense of taste, blushing as she imagined what could be tasted. 

He paused at his doorway, but she did not allow him his freedom just yet. She’d come this far, might as well help him to his bed. 

“Is it better?” She asked as he sat on the edge of the mattress. His long breath of relief was her first indication.

“It does seem to have subsided, thank you,” He was dressed in a robe and night clothes, “That drink of water was hardly worth that trouble,” He attempted the joke, though he didn’t smile. 

“It bothers you often, doesn’t it,” Hermione said, “I would suggest that it be looked at,”

“I trust very few people at present ,” He looked up at her, his stare far from cold. 

“Have you thought - have you given much thought to the methods you’ve been reading?” They both knew that they’d read about in them. Hermione was partially convinced that he was leading her to that end in the first place.

“I have,” Severus did not skate about the truth, he had little use for being coy, “As have you,”

Hermione was surprised by his boldness, but reminded herself that he was in pain. Perhaps that’s the only relief he sought from her. She needed relief as well, but it was of a much different sort.

“If you’re agreeable to it, I could try,” She offered, “But the book did suggest that skin on skin is best,” She could be bold as well, as he was covered completely from the neck down. His dark eyes stared her down for a moment before nodding. The shift in power was almost palpable as her uncertain hands undressed him. The authority over her that he’d held for so long seemed to crumble away with each unfastened button. His appearance changed before her eyes and soon he seemed merely human. A human in pain.

His lean form was tense and strained and she couldn’t stop looking at the lengthy scar that ran in jagged contrast to his otherwise porcelain skin. It hooked around his collar bone and meandered down his stomach and disappeared beneath the band of the tight undergarments that she’d been too embarrassed to remove. The pointed end of the scar peeked out from the leg hem. 

“Is there a problem?” Severus said through gritted teeth, his toes curling and stretching in time with the surges of pain.

“No, no problem,” She snapped out of her fog as her fingers curled around the tight waistband. The sudden exposure of his dark mat of hair was impossible to miss as was the mass of dark veiny skin that bulged from his pelvis. She’d known Snape was male all these years, but never once had she imagined what his cock would look like. Its appearance was almost startling. 

Severus watched her eye his manhood as she slipped the boxers from him. He wondered what was going on in her analytical mind, what wheels were turning and what thoughts were plaguing her. He found himself seduced by the potential of her thoughts. 

In true Hermione fashion, she did not let herself become too distracted to tackle the task at hand. She started at his ankles, though that’s not where the pain started, it was important to use the body’s circulation and pressure points. His skin was smoother than she’d imagined, and warm. For some reason she expected an iciness. 

Severus seemed to stiffen as she touched him and she paused, looking at him for direction.

“It feels better,” He said with a creased forehead, “Please don’t stop,” 

Hermione felt her stomach tingle at his request, and her hands went back to their task. She moved up his calf and noticed that his body was beginning to relax, though he seemed to fidget occasionally. His thigh was taut and she softened her touch. 

“Tell me if there’s anything you want me to work on…” Her gaze was undisciplined as she struggled to not stare at the thick protrusion from his pelvis. 

The more distracted she became, the more so was he. 

“Is there something  _ you  _ would like to work on?” His normally disciplined imagination was escaping his control. Years of self-imposed solitude had left him far more desperate for intimate contact now that he was confronted with it.

Hermione looked to his face, surprised to see a curious grin on his normally plain visage.

“Do you feel better?” She asked, her fingers pressed into him lightly; her touch became more personal and less medicinal by the moment. Out of the corner of her eye his manhood pulsed, twitching slightly. 

“Immensely, but -” He paused for emphasis (and to hide his own nervousness), “I believe I could be easily made to feel much better.”

“I’m sure I could be the one to make you feel better...if you tell me what you want.” She felt as if her breathing was shallow as she watched his mast stiffen more in her peripheral vision. Her inner authority told her to just take what she wanted. To tell him what he wanted and make it line up with her own desire. 

Her hands moved below his navel, massaging long strokes, making his face falter once more and his loins react.

“Is it not obvious?” He questioned.

“Yes. Entirely obvious.” She stated with confidence, “But I want to hear you say it,”

“I want you to show me the woman you’ve become, witch,” He seethed a little, irritated that she held power over him, but begrudgingly willing to succumb to it.

“Strong words from someone in your position,” She let her hand wrap around his shaft and it pulsed again as she squeezed. His teeth parted and a breath left him forcefully. His chest caved as her small fingers spread over his growing length.

His foreskin moved with her grip and she was glad his eyes were closed because she wasn’t sure she wanted him to see how much she was staring at his sex as she manipulated it. 

“You can do more than stare at it…” He mumbled, his eyes still closed.

Hermione had to fake confidence as she bent forward. Her breath wafted over the tip before her lips softly kissed it. He twitched, but she held firmly. As she kissed it again, her lips parted and he slipped into her mouth and the moan that escaped him excited her in surprising ways.

The heat between her own legs intensified and she found herself wanting more and to see how much of a response she could get from him. 

Severus took a chance peeking through his eyelids to see his shaft slipping between her lips, her curls fell over his thighs, tickling them intensely. He was caught when her brown eyes glanced upward and twinkled a bit, knowing how much of a captive he was. 

“Hermione…” He mumbled, realizing he felt no pain and was not in any discomfort. It was beyond the relief he thought he would feel. His hand lifted from his side and rested on her hip, his fingers grazing her backside. 

A long groan left him when she sunk him even deeper, his shaft filling her mouth to capacity and his hips flexed to push deeper. She rose, gasping for air, but immediately went back for more. The heat of her mouth made him feel flushed as his pulse quickened. His grip tightened on her backside.

She stood up, amused at the disappointment on his face as she let go of his sex. Hermione smirked as he looked imploringly at her, slipping her robe off. She lifted her nightgown over her head and slid her knickers to the ground.

Severus had not seen a bare woman in many years. The swell of her young breasts and the slight curve of her hip were enticing as anything he’d ever seen before. The nest of curls that crested the juncture of her thighs made him lick his lips. He wanted to taste her womanhood. He wanted to be smothered by her sex and get lost in it.

His mind was distracted so much that he barely noticed she had crawled into his bed and sat atop him. When he felt a warm heat begin to envelop him again, he snapped back to focus and saw her sex poised to surround him. He opened his mouth to protest but as she sank herself onto him, his words were lost to the pleasure he felt. Her own face was one of astonishment and a new experience. He had to wonder how often, if ever, she’d been filled by a man. Her wide eyes and flushed cheeks made him wonder if this was indeed a first for her...that and the tightness of her sweltering pussy.

Hermione could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as her sex was stretched by his invading member. She had to lift and lower herself a few times before she could accommodate him fully. Even then it was an almost uncomfortable fit. But as she moved, her wetness slickened him and allowed her to move more freely. 

“How are you feeling now?” She asked with a breathless insistence. His eyes spoke for him as his lips remained wordless. His hands found her hips and gripped them tightly. He did not direct her, letting her maintain the upper hand. Hermione leaned forward and gripped his chin tightly, “I asked you a question,  _ Severus, _ ”

He was stunned at her insistence, feeling his desire flare in his loins. 

“That feels outstanding, Hermione…” He managed to speak somehow. He couldn’t tear her eyes off of her movement, out of control of his libido. 

Hermione felt a swelling in her sex, an increasing heat that she began to chase ardently. She grinded against him, feeling friction against her clit hurtling her closer to her climax. 

“Yes...oh Gods...Severus,” She moaned as her head fell backwards. As she came, a fresh wave of wetness coated his sex and his hands wandered her body more freely. He caressed her thighs and her breasts, fondling her excessively the more she responded to him. His own climax was impossible to throttle as he pulled her flush against him. His arms wrapped around her body tightly, his palms pressing her down against him as he buried his cock as deep as he could. 

Hermione felt the heat of his load as he came, feeling the strain of his body against her, the desperation of his orgasm. She lay against him, letting herself descend from the apex of pleasure for a moment until she was acutely aware of their steadying breaths and the feel of his arms around her. She pushed herself upward a bit to look down at him, comforted by the way his arms remained around her.

“I don’t believe that was in any of those books,” She mused, seeing Severus Snape below her, but as an entirely different man. 

“Those books would be in my private collection,” His face remained stoic even when he jested.

“Perhaps I should read those next,” She noticed now that his shaft had not softened at all as it still lay swollen inside of her. 

Severus’s hands began to wander slowly again, gripping and squeezing firmly, “I’m not sure you need any help in that area,” He jested once more.

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
